The Moon's Black Side
by Selena Antares
Summary: Clair Doyle has always loved Sirius Black. However, when he does the unthinkable, will Clair be able to stay strong? Told in a series of flashbacks.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, I hope you guys like this story

**Okay, I hope you guys like this story. It's been in my head for a long time, but this is the first time I've written it down. I'm changing a lot from the book, but I'll try not to do so too much. I know this chapter is boring, but please review it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter stories, nor will I ever, much to my dismay.**

The trouble with train stations, Clair thought, was that there were far too many Muggles. They filled the station, elbowing, jostling, pushing, and shoving. And of course, Clair and her family had attracted more than a few strange looks, what with her mother's sparkling robe and pointed hat. Not to mention her father's pet raven.

Her parents were not very good at blending in.

Clair's musings were interrupted by her father tapping her arm. "Clair? We're at Platform 9 ¾."

Clair looked up to see… "A brick wall?"

She looked inquiringly at her mother, who smiled. "Just walk toward the wall, dear."

"Won't I just crash into it?" Clair asked doubtfully.

Her mother laughed. "You'll see."

Shrugging, Clair pushed her trolley toward the wall. She closed her eyes and braced herself, waiting for the impact- but it never came. Clair opened her eyes to see a sign saying 9 3/4 and a red and black train with the words _Hogwarts Express_ written on it. Her eyes widened, and from behind her, she heard her father chuckle. "See? It was fine!"

Clair turned and gave her father a Look. "You could have told me at the very least!"

"Well, where's the fun in that?"

Clair shook her head. "Oh, never mind." She gave her parents a hug. "I'll see you at Christmas."

Her father smiled. "Have a good time. Oh, and stay away from boys, all right?"

Her mother smiled. "Oh come on, Arch. Clair has more sense than that!" She bent down and embraced Clair. "Good luck, sweetheart."

Clair nodded. "Thanks Mum. I love you." The train whistle sounded. "Oh, I should go."

"Of course." Her mother straightened up as Clair walked onto the train. The corridors were filled with boys and girls, all laughing, talking, and smiling. Clair picked her way through until she found an empty compartment. She placed her trunk on the overhead rack and sat down with a book on magical creatures. She was reading about Mooncalves when two boys walked in, talking loudly. One sat down near Clair and the other took a seat on the opposite side. A short while later, a girl and a boy entered the compartment, the girl wiping her eyes like she had been crying. A little distantly, she heard the boy say, "You'd better be in Slytherin."

"Slytherin?" The boy opposite Clair looked toward the new boy. "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" This last part was directed at the boy sitting by Clair. The boy didn't smile.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," he said.

"Blimey," said the first boy, "and I thought you seemed all right!"

The boy by Clair grinned. "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you headed, if you've got the choice?"

The first boy raised an imaginary sword. "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad."

The boy sitting by the girl made a small, derisive noise. The first boy turned toward him.

"Got a problem with that?"

"No," said the boy sitting by the girl, a slight sneer on his face. "If you'd rather be brainy than brawny-"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" the boy by Clair interrupted.

"Actually," Clair interjected quietly, looking up from her book, "Slytherin has nothing to do with brains. It's for the ambitious. Likewise, Gryffindor has nothing to do with brawn. It's for the brave. You can be brainy and be in Gryffindor, and you can be brawny and be in Slytherin. The only house where brains really matter is Ravenclaw. I just thought I'd let you know."

Everyone stared at her.

"Wow," said the boy sitting near Clair. "That was a little out of the blue."

"So what house do you want to be in?" the first boy asked. "Ravenclaw?"

Clair shrugged. "Anything would be nice, I suppose."

"Anything?" the boy by Clair exclaimed. "You've got no preference whatsoever?"

Clair shook her head. "My father was in Ravenclaw and my mother was in Gryffindor, so both would be good. But if I were in Hufflepuff or Slytherin, I probably wouldn't complain either."

"Wow," said the boy by Clair again.

"You're a pureblood?" This came from the boy who wanted to be in Slytherin. Clair nodded. "What's your surname?"

Clair bit her lip. "Doyle."

The boy sitting by her grinned. "Isn't that the family with the moon obsession?"

"It's not an obsession. It's more of a fascination."

"Obsession."

"Fascination!"

"Obs-"

"You know," the other girl said hastily, speaking for the first time, "we should really change into our robes."

"She's right," the first boy said, grinning at the girl, who gave him a look of disdain.

"Right then," said the boy by Clair, jumping to his feet. He and the other boy grabbed their robes and left the compartment. The boy who had come in with the girl left too, leaving Clair and the other girl alone. The girl looked at Clair.

"Thanks for that house explanation," she said, looking at Clair.

Clair smiled. "No problem. Thanks for stopping that boy from going on about my family's moon obsession."

The girl's eyes widened. "Then it _is _an obsession?"

"Well, yes. My family has a history of naming children after the moon. Latin names, moon gods, moon goddesses… anything." Clair held out her hand. "I'm Clair, by the way."

The girl shook her hand. "Lily." She smiled. "You know, we should probably get into our robes, too."

"Right."

**Yes, I know that this chapter is slow. The story will get better though, I promise! The next chapter is where Clair gets Sorted. And for anyone who's wondering, Clair is not gay. **

**Stupid Quote**: **"The Holocaust was an obscene period in our nation's history. I mean in this century's history. But we all lived in this century. I didn't live in this century."- Dan Quayle, United States vice president, and famous for his idiotic quotes**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, there people! Here's Chapter 2! I can't write songs, so I'm recycling the Sorting Hat's song. But hey, why mess with quality?**

**Thanks to Achillina and NeverAPrefect for reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, or any of its characters. Except for Clair. I do own Clair.**

_Present Day_

Clair pulled herself out of the Pensieve, already emotional. She had had no idea when she had decided to take this journey through her memories that it would be so mentally trying. She hadn't even known who he _was_ during that memory! Why was this so difficult for her? It had been years since That Day, shouldn't she have healed some by now?

Clair took a deep breath. Her journey had barely begun. She had to stay strong for now. If it got too hard later on, she would allow herself to take a break, but for now, she had to finish what she had started. That was the way he would have wanted it. Closing her eyes, she dove back into the memories.

• • •

An anxious Clair, with Lily, Severus, and the other first years close behind, followed Professor Ilderson, the Head of Hufflepuff House, into a huge room where hundreds of students sat at four long tables. Clair glanced up, and gasped to see that the hall was open to the sky, then relaxed as she realized that the ceiling was merely bewitched. _I should be used to this by now_, she thought to herself ruefully. _I feel like one of the Muggleborns._ Thankfully, all of the other students seemed to be having the same reaction. One boy was so distracted by the clouds moving slowly across the sky that he didn't notice when the first years stopped walking, and therefore tripped over Clair's foot and fell flat on his face. A ripple of laughter came from the students behind them as the boy stood up, his face bright red.

Professor Ilderson had moved on to a tall stool with a beat-up hat sitting on it. It looked rather unremarkable, but Clair knew that things in the wizarding world were rarely all that they seemed. The hat could be anything from a regular hat to some rare creature that even Clair didn't know about. Lily seemed to be every bit as confused.

"What is that?" Lily whispered nervously, nodding towards the hat. "Do we have to pull a rabbit out of it or something?"

What did rabbits have to do with anything? "I don't think so," Clair whispered back. "Just wait and see what happens."

Lily nodded and turned back to the hat, which was still sitting on the stool. Clair was about to give up the hat doing anything interesting when, to her shock, the hat somehow sat up, opened a crease that served as a mouth, and began to sing.

_Oh you may not think me pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the __Hogwarts__ Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

You might belong in _Gryffindor__,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set __Gryffindor__s apart;  
You might belong in __Hufflepuff__,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient __Hufflepuff__s are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old __Ravenclaw__,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in __Slytherin__  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends._

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap! 

Professor Ilderson cleared his throat as the first years began to mutter uncertainly among themselves.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," he said. "Anderson, Robert!"

A large boy walked forward, trembling, and sat on the stool. He sat there for a little while until the Sorting Hat opened its mouth and exclaimed, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

One of the tables stood and cheered as Robert Anderson, breathing a sigh of relief, hurried toward the table.

"Black, Sirius!"

The boy who had sat next to Clair on the train sauntered up to the stool and placed the hat on his head. About a second later, the Sorting Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Sirius walked away casually and sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Doyle, Clair de Lune!"

Clair felt her face turn red at the sound of her name as she hurried to the stool and placed the Sorting Hat on her head. "So," it said quietly. Clair started as she heard the voice in her ear. "Clair de Lune Doyle- you honestly don't mind where I put you? Well, that's certainly refreshing. Let's see- a hard worker, intelligent, brave, but- not ambitious? All right then, not Slytherin… and not Hufflepuff… I know- GRYFFINDOR!"

Clair relaxed as she headed toward the Gryffindor table. As she sat down, Sirius grinned at her mockingly from across the table. "_Clair de Lune_?"

"Yes, _Sirius_?" she retorted. Sirius held up his hands in defeat. Clair's attention turned back to the front of the hall, where Lily had just been Sorted into Gryffindor. She slid in next to Clair, with a sad little smile on her face.

"What is it?" Clair asked, frowning. Gryffindor was a good House; there was no reason to be sad about getting into it.

"It's Sev," Lily said softly, looking toward her friend, who was still waiting to be Sorted. "He had his heart set on us being in Slytherin together."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Lily," Clair said sympathetically.

"Why would you _want _to be in Slytherin?" Sirius asked, frowning. "You've got no idea how glad I am that I'm not in it."

Clair gave him a sharp look. "You aren't helping."

"No, honestly," Sirius insisted. "My entire family's been in Slytherin, and they're so pleasant and accepting that they honestly believe that 'purebloods are better than Muggleborns' junk. I'm the only one that doesn't."

Clair stared. "They actually believe it?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, they do. The family motto is _Toujours Pur_. You know, 'Always Pure'? Oh, hang on, James is being Sorted."

The other boy from the compartment was just sitting on the stool. Almost immediately, the Sorting Hat proclaimed, "GRYFFINDOR!" James stood, grinning, and swaggered over to the Gryffindor, where he sat down next to Sirius.

"Well done, mate," Sirius said, giving him a high five.

"Thanks." James looked around. "I wonder when we eat. I'm starving."

Lily pursed her lips. "The Sorting should probably finish first, you know."

"Hey, lighten up, Evans!" James exclaimed.

"Did I ever give you permission to call me Evans?"

"Did you ever not?"

"Why don't you go-"

"Lily, Severus is being Sorted," Clair interjected hastily. Lily shot one last disdainful look at James, and then turned to watch her friend as he placed the Sorting Hat on his head. After maybe half a second, the Sorting Hat exclaimed, "SLYTHERIN!" Severus slid off the stool and, glancing over one last time at Lily, hurried off to the Slytherin table, where a boy with pale blond hair and a prefect badge rose to congratulate him. Lily bit her lip as she watched him go.

Ten minutes and five first years later, the Sorting Hat had finished its job. The new students were all seated with their new Houses, and laughing and talking amongst themselves. As Clair attempted to comfort Lily, a tall man with an amazingly long beard rose. Clair recognized him as Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts. Sighing, she braced herself for a long, tedious speech.

"To our newcomers," Dumbledore said in a ringing voice, stretching his hands wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands- welcome back! There is a time for speechmaking, and this is not it. Tuck in!"

Clair blinked as Dumbledore sat back down again. "That's it?"

"Apparently," James said, grabbing a chicken wing. Clair blinked again, and realized that while she had been blinking, food had appeared on the table. Sighing at her inobservance, she helped herself to sausages and potatoes. At this rate, she would end up making a total idiot of herself within a week. She could hardly wait.

**Thank you for putting up with me through another chapter. I apologize for the delay, but I have had really bad writer's block and just realized how I could make this story work a few weeks ago, and then I could never get around to typing it thanks to homework and marching band practices and competitions, and one thing just led to another, and if you are still reading this sentence, I congratulate you. I don't mean to sound whiny, but it honestly was insane. Okay, moving on. I know this chapter was kind of slow and all I did was show that Lily really doesn't like James, but it will get better. I promise. But I need reviews! They are my chocolate when I have no ideas. Come on, you can do it!**

**You know you're in band when it takes all of your willpower not to stop walking (or marching) when the song on your iPod ends.**


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